


troubled spirits on my chest

by moonmagicked



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Because Loki is Alive, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), that's it that's the whole fic right there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 15:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15512679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmagicked/pseuds/moonmagicked
Summary: "Thor touched his neck and Loki froze.Suddenly he wasn’t standing next to Thor anymore. All at once he was back on the refugee ship surrounded by wreckage and corpses and the awful vastness of space. It wasn’t Thor’s hand on his neck but Thanos’s, Thanos’s grotesquely large and rough and cold hand squeezing around his neck, tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter—"Post-Infinity war, Loki has been brought back to life, but he still remembers dying.





	troubled spirits on my chest

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com/post/176452513100/today-just-thinkin-about-loki-post-infinity-war)! Basically this is short and plotless and completely self-indulgent, but I felt like writing it sooooo.... I did.
> 
> Set in a vague and unspecified post-Infinity War timeframe where Loki (and presumably everyone else bc why not??) has been brought back to life. Fill in the blanks however you like. ((Also Valkyrie is there because I say so))
> 
> TW for depiction of a panic attack and references to (Loki's canon) death

It was so sudden.

One moment Loki was standing next to Thor, his brother laughing at a snarky comment Loki had made. Thor reached out like he had done a thousand times during their lives before, reached out and cupped his hand around the back of Loki’s neck in his familiar, friendly gesture, like he was hugging Loki with just his hand.

Thor touched his neck and Loki froze.

Suddenly he wasn’t standing next to Thor anymore. All at once he was back on the refugee ship surrounded by wreckage and corpses and the awful vastness of space. It wasn’t Thor’s hand on his neck but Thanos’s, Thanos’s grotesquely large and rough and cold hand squeezing around his neck, tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter—

_You’re not there you’re not there_ he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t _breathe_ and he heard himself make a strangled whine, high pitched and awful and pitiful, but he was too panicked to be embarrassed by the sound because _he couldn’t fucking breathe_.

His hands flew up and clawed at his throat, trying to dislodge the invisible hand that choked him, but he felt nothing except his own skin beneath his fingers, but if there was no fist crushing his neck then what was the sickening pressure on his chest, what was the feeling of monstrous fingers on his throat, what was the reason that he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t hear anything except the rapid thudding of his blood through his skull and the occasional awful keen that escaped his throat with his desperate attempts to take in breaths. His vision was swimming, going dark at the edges, and Loki was horribly certain that he was going to die, that he had been here all along and coming back to Thor was nothing but a lie crafted to torture him further. Loki was dying, he was still on the ship dying, the life being crushed out of him in Thanos’s grip, and the part of him that wasn’t blind with panic wanted to sob with grief.

Distantly he felt something hot and wet drip down his face, and he didn’t know if it was blood or tears or both.

“Loki,” Thanos said, except it didn’t sound like Thanos’s voice. “Loki. _Loki_.”

The voice was familiar but it wasn’t Thanos’s. It sounded distorted, far away, and Loki tried to focus on it.

“Loki, look at me. You need to breathe, okay? You need to breathe. _Loki_.”

He knew that voice. Too soft, too quiet to be Thanos’s. But who else could be speaking? Why would anyone else be calling his name?

_Because you’re not with Thanos_ , he tried to tell himself. It didn’t feel real, not when his vision was greying and his chest heavy with pain and his throat closed off, but he tried to focus his thoughts, tried to ground himself. _You’re alive and Thanos is dead and you’re not back there._

“Hey, hey, there we go. Breathe with me, Lackey. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.”

_Lackey_ . There was only one person who called him that, and she hadn’t been there when Thanos had snapped his neck. It was that realization that finally got through to him and he focused on it with everything he had. _Breathe_ she was telling him, and he tried, but all that he managed was another awful whine.

“That’s good, Lackey, that’s good. Keep trying. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.”

He tried to take a breath in time with her voice. This time he managed a strangled rasp. He tried again, and again, and finally blessed air filled his lungs. He almost sobbed with relief.

“That’s it. Just keep breathing. Focus on matching my breaths.”

Loki heard her take in an exaggerated breath, then exhale. He forced himself to do the same. It was a struggle and it felt like his very lungs rattled, but he took another breath. It got easier with each inhalation.

In, out. In, out.

Slowly his vision came back to him. He wasn’t on the ship, he wasn’t in space. He was on Midgard. Somehow he had wound up on the floor, his back pressed up against a wall, and Valkyrie was crouched down in front of him, a scant few feet away and very carefully not touching him.

“Are you back with us, Your Highness?” she asked. Her voice was suspiciously flat, but Loki could see the tension in her body, the worried set of her lips.

Valkyrie had not been there when Loki had entered the room earlier, and he didn’t know when she had appeared. He didn’t know how long he had been curled up on the floor, panicking like a pitiful child. He didn’t know how long she had watched him, how much of his weakness she had seen.

“Yes,” Loki said, and winced at the way his voice shook. “Yes. I—Thank you.”

It felt like he was coming back to himself in pieces. Now that he could breathe he was slowly becoming aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest and his whole body was trembling. His face felt wet, and when Loki reached up one shaking hand it came away clear.

Tears then, and not blood after all.

Valkyrie gave him a long, hard look, and then nodded once.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, and she stood up. Loki followed her with his eyes as she walked away, and then in the corner of the room he noticed Thor.

Thor looked positively _stricken_.

That was suddenly too much for Loki. The awful heartbreak written across Thor’s face was too much like the horror Loki had seen in his eyes back on the wreckage of their ship. That naked grief and fear was too familiar an expression and it brought out too many emotions. Guilt and shame and panic mixed in his gut and Loki couldn’t take it.

He jerked to his feet, traitorous legs quaking beneath him but still holding his weight. His skin felt hot, flushed, too tight, and he squeezed his hands into fists to keep from clawing at it.

He made it two steps before he abruptly bent over and threw up.

When he stood up straight again after spitting bitter bile from his lips, Thor hadn’t moved. It was like his brother had simply frozen or turned to stone, except for how the pain on his face was much too alive. He was just standing there, face open and honest and raw. Loki could only meet Thor’s eyes for a brief moment before he squeezed his own eyes shut, hot tears pricking at the corners.

He willed himself away to his room, making sure he was alone before he finally let those tears fall.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write a followup, either this scene from Thor's POV or the aftermath, focusing more of Thor and Loki talking. It depends on if the inspiration bug bites me. As it is, I'm fine with this as a short little one-shot.
> 
> Sometimes it's nice to take a break from longer, more complicated and plot-heavy works and just write self-indulgent hurt-comfort fic lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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